I Am Not the Last Airbender {ON HOLD}

Chapter Fifteen

            I vaguely remember being thrown by strong arms towards the water we had been flying over not too long ago.  I remember being submersed, water filling my lungs, salt on my tongue.  The burning feeling had turned to hissing and stinging.  I remember sinking.  I remember darkness.

            But here I was, awake, and writhing in pain.  It took me a moment to remember how to tell my body to work, but eventually I got my eyelids to part.  The sun was high over my head and there weren’t miles of water between us, me and the sun.  I was lying on my back and the ground was hard.  It hurt.  Everything hurt, actually.  And that, by the way, is not an over-exaggeration.  I’d never felt anything like it before.  Each point of my body touching the ground was greeted with sharp pain; every little bit of contact with the clothing I was wearing, each little rub felt like the burning again.  I groaned.

            Turning my head to the right, I could see Macco sitting on a log, his back to me.  He was hunched over, his head bent low.  I couldn’t see his face.

            “Macco,” I croaked.  He slowly turned his neck to look at me.  I gasped.  “Y-your face—” I began, but I didn’t know how to continue.  I just stared, my mouth ajar, as I gaped at his ruined face.  It was covered in tears.  But tears weren’t the worst of it: he was the splitting image of Zuko.  Scar and all.

            The left half of Macco’s face was covered in an angry red scab, down just past his cheek bone.  His eye was swollen shut.  The right half of his face was clean except for a purple bruise forming on his jaw.  His dark hair was singed near the burn, awkwardly short.  “Macco…” my lips quivered as I whispered my friend’s name.  My heart broke for him.  Not only were his face and pride stolen from him, but it must have hurt a heck of a lot.

            He wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve, wincing when he accidentally touched his new scar.  “Jalia,” he said, only to break into sobs again.  Now we were both crying.  I tried to get up and comfort him, but I only made it as far as propping myself up on my elbow before I tumbled down again.  Hurriedly, Macco ran over to me.  When he stood, I saw that he had a bloody piece of shirt tied around his calf.  I’d ask about that later.

            Macco tried to help me stand and gain my balance, but I could only hiss in pain when he touched me.  Eventually, I managed to stand and hobble back to the log where he had been sitting.

            “Hey,” Macco said, suddenly, “don’t some waterbenders have healing powers?”

            “Yeah,” I replied, understanding immediately what he was getting at.  “My mum could heal people.  Maybe she passed it on to me!”  Quickly, I pulled out my canteen and drew a bit of water from it.  The water floated and swirled just above my palm.  As I got ready to press it up against my skin, I braced myself for the pain.  But it never came.  The blood and burns began to slowly wash away like dirt.

            “You did it, Jalia!” Macco cried, a smile rising to his lips.

            I couldn’t help but smile, either.  “Here,” I said to him, removing my hands from my leg. “Let me help you.”  I gently pulled the cloth away from his wound and was greeted by a bloody gash.  It was the type of cut that must have come from a sword.  I don’t see how Jaacob could have concealed a sword, but I also couldn’t imagine Macco accidentally slashing himself this badly.  It was deep.  As I began to lower my hands to his leg injury, he took a sharp intake of breath, preparing for a wince, perhaps.  But, as soon as my newly-healed hands touched his calf, he closed his eyes in relief.  I could feel the water working and the skin pulling together under my hands.  At first I thought it was easy, but then I realized how little was happening.  I concentrated harder.  The process seemed to go faster, but I could feel the energy draining from my body.

            Soon, I had to take a break, panting from the effort.  “You can stop if you’d like, Jay,” Macco said kindly.  “It’s feeling so much better already.  I’m sure if I just sleep on it tonight it will be good as new tomorrow.”  I nodded gratefully.

            “We should probably move on ahead, at least a little bit.  Jaacob could have sent word to them and they could be here soon.  I can fly while you can rest or work on healing yourself in the saddle.”  I looked at Macco’s face again.  I’d have to try and heal his scar once I was better at this and when I was feeling better.

            As Macco was turning away to trudge towards Appa resting off in the distance, I stopped him, “Wait, Macco!” He turned around.  “Did you get any sleep last night?”  His eyes had dark purple bags under them, making me wary of his ability to drive us to safety without falling asleep.

            “Umm,” he began slowly.  “Not really…”

            “Macco, I don’t think either of us should be driving.”

            “I—I know, I just think we need to get moving.”

            “Yeah, I agree, but we aren’t going to get anywhere bone tired.”

            “Why don’t we walk for a little bit; you know, just to get away from this place?”

            I nodded in agreement.  Slowly but surely, we packed up our things and began leading Appa through the forest.  It didn’t take more than 20 minutes for my burns to begin to, well, burn, and yawns to escape Macco’s mouth.

            “Maybe we should stop,” I suggested.  “We’re far enough from the shore they wouldn’t see us right away.”

            “If they come back,” Macco added, hopefully.

            I laughed half-heartedly.  “Yeah, more like when they come back.”